DragonKin
by Ayaya Mukaka
Summary: Enemies of the organisation have identified the organisation's claymore research as a serious threat. Hoping to turn the tables in the endlessly raging war, the dragons are on the move. Will Mira and the ghosts of Pieta finally find the truth they seek?


Hello! I've been thinking of this storyline for quite sometime so I decided to do a fanfic. It is purely experimental and something for me to pass the time so don't expect much from it. I write very slowly, so updates will be hard to come by :(. Anyway here is the prologue of the story - DragonKin.

DragonKin focuses mainly on the intervention of the organisation's enemies, the dragons from the mainland when they find out about the claymore project. Rubel here is a dragon disguised in human form, and I have one additional spy (dragon too) working entirely apart from him who is meant to destroy the claymore project via external forces as well a host of other OCs, mainly other dragons and claymores from the mainland at the warfront. It may not stick very closely to canon, so please don't mind. Be prepared for mass betrayal, side switching, double identities, sightseeing and a very extensive timeline. Hope you enjoy and please review! I'm not very good at writing and my grammar is not in the best shape, so constructive criticism is welcomed and throw plot bunnies at me, I'll gladly catch them :)

Disclaimer : This is simply a fanfiction and claymore does not belong to me.

Prologue

Aisha

The song of the sea, the rolling tide, the soft whispers of the winds as it caressed my face, the creaking of the wooden masts as its sails unfurled one by one. Beneath me, the floorboards rocked gently from side to side, prodded thru and fro by the conflicting waves. Then at the dull ring of the bell, I heard the clanking of the chains to the anchor being hauled in, and with such lethargy, the ship gradually came to life, lumbering towards open sea. All the while, I watched the shore continue shrinking; fading till it was no more. Then the ship picked up speed, surging forward to cut through the water, leaving a trail of foaming white in its path. We were off.

These sensations of constant motion, sound, the warmth of the morning sun and the cold spit of seawater, it overwhelmed my senses. Never before had I seen a space so large, a horizon so wide that I could not find the end. So it was that I stood on tiptoes, gripping tightly on the ship' s railing for support and craning my neck to see all there was beyond the ship's deck. Altogether new, altogether refreshing, such activity, such life and for the first time in my short life, I decided, that I finally knew what it was like to be free.

First it was a faint smile and then it grew wider, before I knew it, I had the biggest, silliest grin plastered on my face, stubbornly refusing to go away. In exhilaration, I tossed my head back, feeling the wind filter through my hair, and breathed in the salty air before exhaling through my mouth, shoulders quaking in silent laughter. Even if times such as this were rare, I thought, it was good to be alive. I wanted to live, I loved life - always did.

"Don't come back until you discover their secret – Don't come back until the organization falls– ", the voices had rasped from within the shadow of dark curtains.

I knew better, though the words were never once uttered, I knew what they truly meant to tell me.

Die, die, and die.

They crushed my wings, took away my voice, my parents, my home, to put me upon this barren wasteland rampant with demonic lab rats undefended. If I was caputured, I would not have a voice to speak, no secrets to tell. With my wings destroyed as a whelp, no one would realise my ancestry. No one would find out about me. If I died, so be it. It was every bit their gain.

They sent me on this mission knowing I would fail, used the excuse of making myself useful "at last" to make me accept it. But this mission was not a mission. It was suicide. The moment the ship had left its dock; I was already one foot into the coffin, and when I next set my feet on dry land, I would be pulling the lid over me. Then all I had to do next was wait.

I rested my head upon the railing of the ship and looked out into the open sea.

Not yet, I told myself, not just yet. With my homeland far behind me, until my body returns to the sweet earth and my spirit flies into the wind, I will choose my fate, I will live- fight for my life, even if it would soon be consisted demonic youma infested lands and experimenting madmen. Every day, hour, minute and second I live; I will cherish with all my heart.

Now a seabird plummets headfirst into the sea, churning white foam upon impact, its small beak catches and pierces but struggles to keep its hold on the prey. After much trashing, it finally emerges, letting out sharp screech at its failed attempt, and with a vigorous flap of its wings it took off, not wasting a moment to fly faster and higher to dive down again.

For a path to a grave, this is not a bad way to go, I tell myself. Even if I were blind and deaf, on top of being mute, I would not go down so easily. I close my eyes and add as an afterthought, "Perhaps I will discover the secret to the demons' power, or live to see the enemy's fall, if I am lucky…"

If that happens, I won't be killed right?

…

Luck be on my side.

Please.

My name is Aisha and I wish to live.

-End

Please RnR. concrit not flames thanks.


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